


Where Do You Think You're Going?

by Aztecl



Series: Whumptober 2020: Natasha Romanoff [5]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Awesome Clint Barton, BAMF Natasha Romanov, Budapest, Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Gen, Hurt Natasha Romanov, Minor Injuries, Natasha Romanov Feels, Natasha Romanov Needs a Hug, Origin Story, Pre-Avengers (2012), Pre-Canon, Rescue, Strike Team Delta, What Happened in Budapest (Marvel), Whump, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:48:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26844655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aztecl/pseuds/Aztecl
Summary: Natalia Alianovna Romanova limped across the alley. One hand was clutched against her thigh, drenched in her own wet blood. The other was on the brick alleyway wall to support her beat and bloodied body. Smoke tinged her tourist t-shirt, reading, "I love Budapest!" and the usual bulge of a gun in her black jeans was gone, having been left behind in the fire she'd ignited the previous night.A knife was embedded in her thigh, but Natalia found herself leaving it in. Something was comforting about seeing the familiar red color occasionally dripping through. Natalia could remember every face that she had recently killed — both Red Room operatives and mission targets — so why should she allow herself to forget? Even at the tender age of 18, the Black Widow had already made a name for herself.That probably explained why there was currently a man tailing her from behind, far back enough that normal people wouldn't spot him. Natalia wasn't normal. She could easily pinpoint his location and pick out his tensed frame from a crowd— oh, fuck. The man was gone, so scratch out that last part.NO. 5 - WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU'RE GOING?On the Run, Failed Escape, Rescue
Series: Whumptober 2020: Natasha Romanoff [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949368
Kudos: 30
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	Where Do You Think You're Going?

Natalia Alianovna Romanova limped across the alley. One hand was clutched against her thigh, drenched in her own wet blood. The other was on the brick alleyway wall to support her beat and bloodied body. Smoke tinged her tourist t-shirt, reading, _"I love Budapest!"_ and the usual bulge of a gun in her black jeans was gone, having been left behind in the fire she'd ignited the previous night.

A knife was embedded in her thigh, but Natalia found herself leaving it in. Something was comforting about seeing the familiar red color occasionally dripping through. Natalia could remember every face that she had recently killed — both Red Room operatives and mission targets — so why should she allow herself to forget? Even at the tender age of 18, the Black Widow had already made a name for herself.

That probably explained why there was currently a man tailing her from behind, far back enough that normal people wouldn't spot him. Natalia wasn't normal. She could easily pinpoint his location and pick out his tensed frame from a crowd— oh, _fuck_. The man was gone, so scratch out that last part.

Where to now? She was searching for something the assassin knew she could never get. Natalia couldn't go back to Russia where the Red Room was strongest — the embodiment of a suicide mission. Speaking a lot of languages gave her a lot of options to choose along with her ability to create safehouses out of what seemed to be thin air — but Natalia's newfound sense of _freedom_ didn't sit easy. No more orders to follow? That couldn't be right. No.

Natalia didn't register her knees slamming into the concrete alley sidewalk until her thigh hissed in pain. She cursed and held her hands to her face. Blood stained both. Without a hand applying pressure on the sides of the knife, more of the warm liquid seeped out into the alleyway than before. Racking her brains, Natalia remembered that leaving the knife in would probably help save her life, assuming she wanted to keep up this game neverending pain.

So this is where it ends — Natalia succumbing to a stab wound, fire, and inner turmoil instead of Red Room torture methods, hypothermia, a mission being supervised by Ivan or the Winter Soldier, or even suicide. She always knew her life expectancy was short as hell, but even this way of going out was surprising. Natalia licked her dry lips but felt only blood. Well, that's the cost of jumping out a broken window and hitting a wall while running from flames.

"You've made my job pretty easy."

She blinked away the spots in her vision and felt adrenaline course through her. Her face showed no change other than being a blank mask like usual. The man now stood a few yards away, but his presence didn't startle Natalia.

"Then what are you waiting for?" Natalia questioned. It'd be a simple task to end her life, and the assassin found herself extending a blood-soaked hand towards Death's doorbell to greet him like old friends. "Kill me."

"Without an introduction?" The man smirked and Natalia was struck by how annoying he was. "I'm Clint."

She finally lifted her head and looked at him for the first time. _Clint_ (probably a fake name) held a bow in his clean hands. A quiver of arrows was on his back, opposite hand twitching ever so slightly towards it. Natalia realized Clint couldn't just have a bow; that was stupid. He likely carried a vast assortment of knives and at least one gun. His arms were definitely toned enough through his outfit to fit the description of an archer. The idea was both hilarious and respectable to Natalia.

Natalia fought the urge to cough. "If you're here, then you'll know who I am."

"No," he said coldly. Clint's blue-grey eyes softened at the sight of his target lying defenselessly in an alley somewhere in Budapest. _You stupid man —_ _Amerikanets_. "Tell me yourself."

"I'm good, thanks."

"It wasn't a question."

Natalia gauged the distance between herself and Clint. Maybe it was time to see just how fast he was with a weapon. " _Ya ne podchinyayus' prikazam mertvetsa."_

It took Clint a solid second to translate her Russian, too long to get a headstart: _"_ _I don't take orders from a dead man."_

She jumped up and tried to bend the bow back, testing it's strength. A punch flew at Clint and he managed to doge. He used her momentum against her by shoving Natalia against the alley wall, leaving blood in its wake. A loose arrow fell out of his quiver and she firmly grasped it, now coated with sticky blood, and jabbed at Clint's chest. He realized with a start that the Black Widow was holding back her abilities.

She panted. Injuries were definitely taking a toll on her energy despite all Natalia's personal experience with fighting while hurt. Clint had done his research with studying the infamous Black Widow, even looking into her basic fighting style. There was a mix of fluid ballet and several types of martial arts used, but he wanted to look past all that training. Clint couldn't help but think about Coulson staring into his eyes as he pointed a bow at the agent's chest — and for the first time — having someone believe in him. His brain started drifting from their fight to the death as a new, incredibly dumb, insane, and suicidal idea began to form.

Natalia knew she was loosing the fight — both with her injures and with Clint. Looking at her thigh and making a split second decision, the assassin ripped the knife out of her thigh with a yell of pain. Her vision blurred and the sounds of the distant Budapest streets faded. The sight and smell of her own blood almost made Natalia pass out, but she continued to swing aimlessly at Clint.

He sidestepped and Natalia tried to choke him with her thighs, failing as one freely bled out into the alley. Clint grunted and Natalia finally fell to the ground from her vantage point on his shoulders — and she didn't get back up.

Clint narrowed his eyes. "You were holding back. Why?"

Natalia didn't meet his eyes. She internally begged for him to kill her like his mission likely stated.

"The Black Widow... Red Room, right? You guys are, like, made to kill and brainwashed, according to our intel."

"Who's intel?"

Clint grinned, blood dripping down from his now broken nose. "The Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement Logistics Division."

"Ah." Natalia would've rolled her eyes if she had the chance.

From the corner of her eyes, she saw Clint crouch down shakily. He scanned her eyes for anything that showed emotion or a trace of internal battle, succeeding even when her mask showed no sign of slipping or folding up at even a small corner. Lots of icy pain still shined through and made Clint's heart ache, reminding him of his own brother and time at the circus... Her paleness brought him back to reality.

"Join me," Clint blurted. "Come to the organization and work for the good guys. You want redemption—? Well, it's a one time offer, Romanoff."

That was the last thing Natalia thought she would hear. She almost thought the blood loss was getting to her at last. "What did you call me?"

He shrugged one shoulder. "I meant to say _Romanova_ , but it kinda slipped."

The name rang in Natalia's ears. She repeated, "Romanoff." It left a strange and foreign feeling in her mouth — and no, she want just talking about the blood. Suddenly, she tried to stand, falling back down again and allowing the knife to clatter to the alleyway floor.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Natalia grimaced in her best attempt at a smile, and uttered the words she'd never thought she would ever say as her vision turned black:

"With you."


End file.
